A Lesson in How Fleeting Preservation Is
by Skatinggirl2011
Summary: Spot Conlon takes in the sister of a long, lost friend as a favor, but little does he know how much that girl will affect him.
1. Chapter 1

**Buon giorno, all of you lovely people! So this is my first Newsies fic, which is a bit strange for me since I usually write stories for The Dark Knight, but I just recently rediscovered my love for the Newsies, and here I am! I hope you all enjoy! Also, I'm looking for a beta reader for this story, so if you're interested, just message me or something! I'll try my best to update weekly, but I am busy with a musical I'm in as well as getting ready for college, so no guarantees. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies, just Emma and whatever else you don't recognize. **

One-thirty. On the dot. The streets of Brooklyn were just busy enough for a small boy to go unnoticed as he preformed his usual routine: stealing breakfast.

On the opposite side of the street, balanced on top of a few crates sat the king of Brooklyn with his trademark cane hooked in one of the loops of his pants, and the morning edition held in his right hand.

His eyes haughtily watched on in amusement as he observed the kid quickly and effortlessly maneuver around the crowd and over to an innocent street vender selling loaves of bread as well as fruit. For those not knowing what to look for, the kid was practically invisible. He was good- but not that good. Spot nodded over to his one of his loyal newsies to set his plan into motion. The kid had guts, but nobody messes around on his turf.

* * *

><p>Emma quickly took off as she grabbed a loaf of bread in one hand, and an apple in the other. Every so often, she would nervously check behind her to see if someone was following her. That's how she lived her life: in a constant state of paranoia. Her brother was continually assuring her that everything was fine and that there was nothing to worry about, but that only got him so far. Here he was, running away with her and all of the problems she had caused.<p>

She swiftly turned down one of the alleys that led to the old abandoned warehouse she and her brother currently inhabited ever since they arrived in Brooklyn four days prior.

A warning bell sounded in the back of her head as she recalled that it was her third time in a row she had taken that route. She had been taught to never use the same path more than once, and here she was using it once more.

_Humans are creatures of habit,_ her father would say, _that's why we need to break it out of you. Always leave them guessing._

Emma grimaced as she recalled the training she had been through, and quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand: getting food back to the warehouse.

_One more block to go_ Emma told herself as she pushed through the pain in her legs and picked up the pace, only to run into something that felt like a brick wall.

She crumbled to the ground, and her hat that had been holding up her long, dark hair came flying off. Recovering quickly, she held the loaf of bread and the apple tightly to her chest and swung out her legs, effectively taking down the guy who had blocked her way.

With a thud, the boy hit the ground and gazed up in disbelief as Emma stood up, grabbed her hat and put it back on her head, this time not bothering to hide her long flowing hair. She smiled at the look of incredulity of the boy as she brushed herself off. The boy opened his mouth to say something, only to have his leader beat him to it.

"You'se a goil?"

Emma spun around to come face to face with a boy around her age, 17, or a year older than that. Red suspenders held up the loose-fitting pants, and the dirty shirt he was wearing had buttons missing, revealing the tan, muscular chest that he proudly boasted. He held himself with the pride and confidence that Caesar would carry.

He kept a straight face that reminded Emma of a well-kept mask that could hide any display of emotion, except for his eyes. His piercing cerulean eyes were what captivated Emma. His icy eyes glistened in amusement as he closely observed her. She felt the need to look away, but found herself unable to do so.

"Yeah," she answered meekly before gathering up her usual courage. Anger sparked inside of Emma as he began to circle around her, leaving her feeling like some sort of possession. "What's it to you?"

He completely ignored her response as he stood up straighter and puffed out his chest to intimidate her even more. "You'se the one that's been soakin' me boys? I don't take to kindly to that, you know. You mess with me boys, you mess with me-"

Before he could finish, Emma had bolted out of sight, leaving dirt hanging in the air. Spot raised one eyebrow and smirked as he looked off in the direction she had left before turning his attention to his newsie that was still on the ground.

"Get back up, ya bum. Nobody rests on the job."

* * *

><p>Emma didn't stop running until she was safely inside the warehouse. She doubled over for a few seconds and allowed herself to catch her breath.<p>

"Emmalynn, is that you?" came her brother's weak voice from the other side of the large storage room.

Emma quickly snapped back up and corrected her posture as she observed her brother leaning up against the wall for support.

"Tommy, what are you doing out of bed? You're in no condition to be up and about." She was immediately at his side, leading him over to his makeshift bed constructed from crates and old tarps.

As he sat down, Tommy explained, "I'm feeling a lot better, Emmalynn. Besides, I'm the one that's supposed to be taking care of you."

He was silenced when Emma thrust the loaf of bread into his hands. "Yeah, well I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself- which also brings up the question as to why you're making me go live with your old friend-"

I told you, I promised Mom that I'd keep you safe-" Tommy burst out into a coughing fit before he could finish. Emma stood in front of her brother, patiently waiting for it to finish. By now, she was used to his sudden outbursts.

He finally managed to get his coughing under control and continued, "and safe does not mean you living alone or back at home."

There was no use arguing with him. It would just get him even more upset. They were both stubborn people, but Emma didn't want his condition to get worse just because of some silly fight. As she sat down beside him, she sighed and rested her head on her brother's shoulder. The two savored the rare moment between them before Tommy finally interrupted it.

"Let me finish this bread, and then we'll head out."

Emma nodded, giving in easily, and left to pack up the few belongings they had brought with them. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as the seconds passed and brought her closer to her new life. She hoped for acceptance, but deep down she knew it would never be. She was just a monster- just like her father. They'd never trust someone like her.

* * *

><p>Spot sat perched atop his crate that overlooked the Brooklyn docks, watching over his entire kingdom with pride glowing in his eyes. The pride in the role he had taken up a little over a year ago. His boys respected him, and other boroughs feared him. Nobody ever dared to cross Spot Conlon.<p>

"Spot, two people are on their way over here. They wish to speak with you," Reader, his second-in-command, informed him.

He looked at Reader out of the corner of his eye and considered him for a moment before nodding. Spot finally stood up and turned to face his loyal friend. "Send 'em over to me as soon as they get here, will ya, Reader?"

His companion nodded in agreement, and then Spot jumped down from his throne to walk along the area were the docks were completely empty.

The girl from earlier occupied his thoughts, leaving it impossible to concentrate on anything at the moment. He knew everyone in Brooklyn, but he had never come across her until a few days prior to their "meeting", and any information about her had effectively evaded him and his birdies. For a brief second, anger flickered through his eyes before they returned to their cool, confident composure.

"Spot Conlon?"

A voice pulled Spot out of his musings. He spun around in a flash to find the two people Reader had been talking about standing before him. The tall, lanky boy seemed vaguely familiar with his rare green eyes, sparkling like jade in the sun. Then, with a smirk, he noticed the girl from that morning standing slightly behind the boy, staring down at her feet. A slight blush crept up her face and up to the tips of her ears.

_Speak of the devil, and he- or she- shall appear_ Spot thought, slightly amused, before he spoke up. "Yeah. Who wants to know?"

The boy took two steps closer. "You don't recognize me, Spot? Thomas Bacalov?"

Realization struck Spot, and his smirk grew into one of his rare, genuine smiles. The two spit-shook before Spot looked over Thomas's shoulder at the girl, who was now staring at him like a wide-eyed doe. He tipped his cap to the girl whose gaze immediately shot back down to her feet.

"So what brings you and your goil up to Brooklyn?

"She's not my girl, she's my sister, and I've come to call in that favor you owe me."

_Damn._ Spot Conlon rarely owed anyone anything and hated more than anything being indebted to someone. It gave the other party control- something he hated giving up.

"Oh yeah?" He asked and stood up straighter to make himself appear more intimidating. "And what might that favor be?" He noticed the girl's full attention was now on the two of them, eagerly listening to their conversation.

"I need you to take care of my sister for a while."

"Look Tommy, I know Ise said I owed ya one, but I ain't some babysitta'."

"Spot, please." Tommy's voice grew desperate. "I promise it'll only be for a little. Just until everything back home clears up."

Now the girl stepped in, seemingly more confident, as she entered into the conversation. "Oh well, Tommy. Can't say we didn't try. I guess I'll just have to live on my own. Now come on." She tried to tug on her brother's arm, but he wouldn't budge.

Spot looked back and forth between his old friend and his sister, and resented that voice in his mind that told him to take her in.

"Fine. But just for a little."

**Review please! They make me all happy inside : )**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey y'all! So here's the second chapter of **_**A Lesson in How Fleeting Preservation Is**_**! I hope you all enjoy it, and sorry it took me a little longer than expected to get this one out! Also, I'd like to say thanks to Mayarin and DiAmOnDsrBlUe for reviewing! It really meant a lot to me!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies. Thanks for jabbing that knife through my heart.**

The first two weeks of Emma's stay had been a little rough for her. She missed her brother terribly, and it didn't help that a lot of the newsies didn't even acknowledge her presence. She understood why they wouldn't, of course. She was an intruder; someone who couldn't be trusted. She had to prove herself as one of them before they would befriend her.

The newsies, she had learned, were made up mostly of orphans and runaways trying to survive the difficulties thrown at them by the city. The Brooklyn newsies in particular were particularly tough due to their surroundings. You had to be able to hold your own in a fight if you wanted a chance at survival in this rough borough. Sure, the other boroughs' newsies had it rough, but they had a cushy life compared to the Brooklyn newsies.

Selling papers was even harder than she imagined, seeing as she couldn't even read the words that were printed. It was a load of gibberish to Emma, and the words and symbols just swam around in her head, causing much confusion. Emma would listen to all of the other newsies hawking headlines and would then repeat what she heard, but that only got a person so far.

So Emma added on not being taught how to read to the list of things she hated about her father. Whenever she had asked him to teach her, he would laugh and explain it wasn't necessary for someone like her. She was only there to obey, carry out orders, and lead blindly. Emma was just a pawn in a chess game carefully set up by her father.

Needless to say, she didn't make much money selling papers. So she relied on her thieving abilities to take care of her money problem despite being giving distinct orders from Spot to never steal or pick pocket. But what Spot didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

On this particularly hot spring day, Emma found herself on the corner of Chestnut and Madison, where the Brooklyn Bridge loomed over the horizon. The sun blazed down in the middle of the sky, making it impossible to avoid its beams. Emma had been out for nearly two hours and still had the majority of the papers she had purchased for the day, which wasn't even that many compared to the other newsies. Even the little kids sold more than her.

"Body found floating down the Hudson, police have no leads," Emma shouted at the top of her lungs in her best imitation of a boy's voice. Not even one person spared her a passing glance. She threw her papers down on the ground in frustration as she yelled up to the sky, "C'mon, give me a break!"

"You… you little street rat!" came an angry voice from behind her. Emma spun around to come face to face with an angry patron to whom she had sold to earlier that day. He was dressed in the finest fashion, but that didn't take away from his glowering demeanor. "I specifically bought your paper for the story on the mayor's scandal, only to discover that story was nonexistent! The mayor wasn't even mentioned in this edition. I demand my money back!"

Emma's jaw dropped in disbelief. Who the hell was this prick? He looked as though he could spare a lousy penny, and yet here he was demanding it back.

"Look, mister, you took your chances when you bought the paper. Not my problem. Besides, it's just a pe-"

Before Emma could even finish her sentence, the man's fist collided with the side of her face, sending her flying backwards a few feet into a wall. She held on to her hat to keep it from falling off as she stood there for a few seconds, stunned.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she muttered before launching an attack on the richy standing in front of her.

A well-aimed sidekick to the stomach sent the man soaring to the ground. Red clouded Emma's vision as she stealthily leapt onto the man and began pummeling him.

Before her mind could even register what she was doing and intervene, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up off of the man.

After a few blind swings, Emma calmed down as a voice yelled, "Knock it off!"

Emma looked back at the person holding her back and rolled her eyes. It would be Spot thought found her like this. The look in his eyes just screamed condescending. "I'm good, you can let go now," she calmly told Spot, who eyed her carefully and then released her from his ironclad grasp. Her gaze wondered back to the prick that was being held back by an extremely amused Reader.

"What seems ta be the problem here?" came Spot's authoritative voice once more.

The man shook Reader off of him as he replied pointedly, "He sold me false information. I demanded my money back, and then he just attacked me for no good reason! The kid is crazy and should be locked up, Conlon."

Emma attempted to leap at the man in front of her, but was stopped once more by Spot holding her back.

"Look, youse took your chance when you bought the pape, and besides, it's just one penny. I know well enough that you will survive." The look on Spot's face struck more finality in his tone and dared the man to cross him.

The man stood there, baffled for a few moments, and then huffed off, leaving Emma alone with the two newsies. One looked at her skeptically, and the other one looked at her with a wide grin of amusement still on his face.

"You know, attacking customers ain't exactly the way to sell papes," Spot commented as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Ise know you're new to this, but that should be common sense, goily."

"To be fair, he attacked me first," she piped in. " I wasn't just about to stand there and have the tar beaten out of me.

Reader inched over to Emma's side to help her out "She does have a valid point."

She looked up at Reader, grinning. Finally, someone was helping her out.

Spot remained silent for a few moments before a smile graced his face, and he nodded. "So, what was the headline that had caught his attention?"

Emma shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip as she muttered, "Mayor caught in a love triangle…"

Both Spot and Reader burst out laughing, making Emma feel slightly uncomfortable and completely embarrassed. She shifted her weight uneasily over to one side, and a blush crept up her face, spreading like wildfire.

"Where did you come up with that one?" Spot finally asked as he regained his cool composure.

"Yeah," added Reader, who was still having trouble stifling his laughter. "The mayor wasn't even mentioned once. You've got to make sure there's a little truth behind what you're saying…"

Becoming increasingly irritated, Emma blurted out, "Well that's a little hard for me to do." She hated it when people laughed at her and acted like she was stupid. She wasn't. It wasn't her fault that she could read.

"Why is that?" came Spot's reply, his expression now completely unreadable.

"I can't read!" As soon as that phrase left Emma's mouth, she clasped both hands over her mouth and turned beat red once more. When she was upset, she had the habit of not thinking through- someone her father had tried to beat out of her. _I need to work on thinking before speaking…_

The two boys stared at her in disbelief. Weren't girls supposed to know how to read?

A question surfaced in Reader's mind, which he quickly voiced, "Well, how have you been able to earn enough money to stay at the lodging house then?"

She smiled nervously as she lowered her hands back down to her sides and began to rock back and forth on her heels.

"Yeah," added Spot as he suddenly became very interested. He immediately knew the answer based on how she was reacting, but there was something about hearing her fess up to it that brought a sense of accomplishment to him. "How are you managing that?"

Anger flashed inside of Emma, but she quickly subdued it before she acted upon it. Spot knew what she had been doing; she could tell by the tone of voice and that stupid "all-knowing" smirk on his face. She may not bee able to read words, but she could read body language pretty well. How was he able to know everything?

"I stole some money," she muttered.

"What was dat? I'm not so sure I heard you-"

"I stole it!" she yelled. "Happy?"

"No," he answered. "I will not tolerate my newsies stealing on home turf. I don't want to deal with the bulls coming after me and my newsies. Now, seeing as I promised your brother I'd look after you, I'm not going to kick you out like I normally would, but next time you do that, you're out of here."

Spot began to walk away, and Reader took this as his cue to follow, but not before looking back at Emma apologetically. They were a few paces away when Spot stopped and turned around, talking to Reader about something.

He then walked back to Emma, and announced, "Instead of selling papes, I'm going to have youse be one of my birdies-"

Emma opened her mouth to interrupt, but was sent a sharp look by Reader.

"And then Reader here is goin' to teach you how to read."

With that, Spot turned right back around and walked away, leaving Emma standing there, smiling alone.

**Please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to IloveCruthchy23, Mayarin, and DiAmOnDsrBlUe for reviewing! They really mean a lot to me! They seriously made me happy!**

_When I counted up my demons_

_Saw there was one for every day_

_With the good ones on my shoulders_

_I drove the other ones away_

_~Coldplay "Everything's Not Lost_

For the next couple of weeks, Emma would get up bright and early to complete her runs to whichever borough Spot had assigned her to, keeping tabs on what each one was up to, and making sure everything was in order. She spent her mornings there, and then traded off with another one of Spot's "birdies" in the afternoons so that she could attend her lessons with Reader.

Emma went out of her way to avoid Spot as much as possible ever since her run in with the rich fellow. He had been keeping a close eye on Emma, making sure she didn't do anything stupid or something that would risk the safety of his newsies. She wouldn't even be surprised if he had someone following her on her runs.

As much as she hated to admit it, Spot intimidated Emma. She felt scrutinized under his cool, calculating gaze; it was as if she was doing everything wrong. She normally took pride in her courage and composure, but when confronting Spot, she felt small and insignificant.

Luckily, however, Emma had found Reader to be a good friend to her. He always found a way to cheer her up and make her loose all of the self-doubt that had been built up by Spot. He showed her the ropes of the city and taught her the tricks of the trade to being a newsie.

During, their lessons, Reader never lost his temper with Emma, which was something she appreciated immensely. She couldn't pick up on reading as easily as she would've hoped and was very grateful Reader didn't make her feel stupid. He seemed to understand her trouble and would help her out whenever she stumbled.

Emma sat quietly at the small kitchen counter in the lodging house, concentrating deeply on the task in front of her. With a furrowed brow and the tip of her tongue pointed out of the corner of her mouth, Emma's unsteady hand wrote out the letters of the alphabet for the sixth time that day.

Reader sat across from her, watching her patiently. They had been working on improving her reading and writing skills, but much to Emma's disappointment, she hadn't made much progress. Reader always suggested that it was because she wasn't a child, which was when it was easiest to learn, but that didn't make Emma feel better.

"There," Emma announced as she finished writing out the last letter, "done." She pushed the paper over to Reader for him to look at. He picked it up and quickly glanced over it with a smile.

"Well," he began, "it was better than the previous ones. You only wrote three letters backwards this time. That's an improvement."

Emma let out a frustrated sigh and put her head on the table. "I give up. Don't you have papes to sell or something?"

"Papers," Reader corrected," and I already finished. You really are doing better, Emma." Reader patted her on the back in an attempt to make her feel better.

Emma let out a harsh laugh and muttered sarcastically, "Sure I am…"

"Hey now, what happened to the Emma I met who beat up that prick, huh? She was a fighter. She wouldn't give up." She still didn't move, giving Reader a sneaking suspicion that she really couldn't care less about what he was saying. "How about we move on to reading? We'll probably be able to finish up that story today."

Emma immediately perked up. He had to hand it to her: while she may not have been a kid, she was certainly as easy to entertain as one. She liked reading, even if it was difficult for her to catch on. Two brothers, of whom Emma forgot the names of, had written the story they had been working on. _The Brothers Timm… No, that's not right… The Brothers Flymm… Something like that._ Reader had told her once before, but it always seemed to slip her mind.

While, Emma wasn't too fond of the girl in the story, Snow White, she did enjoy being whisked off into that world created by the two brothers. Snow White was stupid, in her opinion. When someone warns you not to open the door to anyone while you're alone, you listen. What does Snow White do? She opens it, not just once, but three times. You'd think she'd learn after the first time… On the third time, the evil queen had disguised herself once more and given Snow White a poisoned apple that put her into a deep, unbreakable sleep. The part Emma was working on now was when the prince found her in a glass coffin, and he was now asking the dwarves if he could take it with him to his castle.

Reader looked on with Emma as she slowly worked her way through the story, offering his help whenever she needed it.

She was extremely entertaining to watch when reading. Her tongue would stick out of the corner of her mouth when she was trying to decipher a word, her reaction to every little detail displayed everything she was thinking, and she would add in her occasional commentary, which Reader found amusing since she didn't seem to realize these were stories meant to teach children lessons.

An hour later, Emma found herself sitting on the roof of the lodging house, relaxing and watching the sun set behind the horizon. She had discovered this place not too long after she moved into the lodging house and found it was a nice place to unwind and think.

Despite not talking to her, the newsies were a loud, rambunctious group of kids. It was a change from what she had become accustomed to back home where everyone spoke in hushed tones and went about their day in silence, for fear of being punished. Emma welcomed the change, yet found herself longing to be a part of it, to be a kid again. However, the only newsies she knew were Spot and Reader. The others seemed to avoid her like the plague.

So to evade that longing, she went to the roof, away from the commotion. It was easier that way. She wouldn't even have to deal with it much longer. Her brother was probably already on his way to retrieve her.

The door behind Emma opened and closed as Spot stepped up beside her. A cigarette dangled between the fingers of his left hand, and smoke floated from his mouth. She nodded to him in acknowledgement and then went back to staring off in the distance.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Reader?" came Spot's accusatory tone. He leaned against the ledge, facing Emma.

"We finished early," she replied, curtly. _Did you just come up here to irk me?_ For a moment, a part of her wondered how her brother could be a friend with such a pompous, controlling person.

An awkward silence fell between them as each tried to think of something to say. Not that Emma really cared to talk to him. He hadn't made an effort to be kind to her, so why should she do the same? All he ever managed to do was get her riled up- something he seemed to enjoy.

"How are things going?" he finally asked, trying to sound interested, but it just came off in the same bored tone he always used with his newsies. All he received in response was a shrug, sending a small flare of anger through him. Nobody, especially a girl, had expressed as much disinterest in him than the girl beside him. While he wouldn't admit it, it took a blow to his pride. He was used to being respected and revered, not someone who could be easily pushed aside.

Still, Spot took Reader's advice and tried to make small talk to make her feel more comfortable. "You enjoying it here in Brooklyn?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a second and curtly answered, "I suppose. It just gets boring. It feels like everyone is avoiding me." Spot wondered if she knew that he had told his newsies to keep their distance for a while until he could be sure she could be trusted.

"How do you know my brother?" Finally, Emma was the one to break the silence this time, and she didn't even say it like she was annoyed. Spot smirked as he realized he was slowly making progress.

The smirk grew into an actual smile as he remembered the first time he had met Tommy. "We shared the same cell in the refuge for a while. He looked after me like I was his kid brother. Eventually he managed to find an escape, and he busted me out as well."

Emma glanced over at Spot, who was now looking out over his kingdom. The air of superiority had waned a bit, revealing just a small piece of the boy underneath. "Hmm, he never told me he was in the refuge."

Spot laughed a little. "Yeah, it's probably not something he wanted to share with you. He's not proud of it. Apparently he woiked for some messed up guy who wanted him to kill this one important person." Spot seemed to shrug it off as if it were nothing.

Emma nodded absently as she remembered her father being upset when her brother hadn't returned from his task. "Sounds like my dad," she mumbled and received a curious look from Spot, as if he was asking her to elaborate. She took a deep breath. _Well, I guess he would've found out sooner or later._ "He worked for my dad. That was the last time my dad saw Tommy. I'm guessing that he went into hiding after he broke out…" She said that last part to herself. It made sense. Emma hadn't seen him for a whole entire year, and then he shows up in the middle of the night just to see her. Ever sense then, they had met secretly whenever Emma had a break from training.

"I've heard a lot of stories about messed up families, but yours blows everyone else's out of the water. So that's why your brother brought you here, to get you away from him?"

Within seconds, tears sprung up to Emma's eyes as her thoughts taunted her. She shook her head. "No," came her meek reply.

If Spot's attention hadn't been caught before her small story, it definitely was now. It was a bit shocking to see someone crying. His newsies never shed a single tear. They took pride in being tough, and to them, crying showed a sign of weakness.

As quickly as the tears had sprung up, they went away as Emma composed herself. She rarely allowed herself to cry, and she'd be damned if she lost it in front of Spot. She could feel Spot's gaze on her, patiently waiting to hear what had brought her to Brooklyn.

_Emma stood in the center of the room, facing the unidentified man who was gagged and tied up to a chair. His eyes spoke of the terror he was feeling, but Emma just ignored it. This was her last session before she was sent on her first task, and she believed it to be a game. That's what her father told her, and she willingly believed him. She believed he was rewarding her for her hard work._

_Her father stood in the corner of the room, watching his daughter with great pride. He and his colleagues had trained her ever since she could walk. Instead of teaching her how to read or write, they used those parts of her brain to read people's body language and predict their next move. Emma wouldn't be the disappointment her brother was. She was farther advanced, and she was the first of many to come. _

_Emma looked over her shoulder at her father, who promptly gave her the go-ahead to start. She sprang into action and began attacking the man, who tried to squirm away. Blow by blow, they man gradually weakened, but the fear remained until the light left his eyes. Immediately, Emma stopped, her eyes wide and sparkling with tears. Realization hit her, and she saw death as the man saw it: terror, and then nothing. She looked down at her shaking, bloody hands before looking over at her father, who was beaming with pride. _

_Within seconds, Emma launched herself onto her father in rage, while also knocking down the oil-lit lamp, and started beating him so that he would understand the rage and sadness she felt until she witnessed death for a second time. She sat there for what seemed like hours as flames consumed the area around her. _

_The door to the room burst open, and her brother ran in as terrified screams echoed in her ears. _

"_Emma, we need to get out of here, this place is about to go down," he yelled, but Emma never moved. Tears streamed down her face as she continued to stare down at her hands in horror. How had she done that? It didn't make sense. Why had her father trained her to kill? She was now a monster. _

_As soon as Tommy realized she wasn't going anywhere, he came up from behind her and picked her up, immediately sprinting out of the raging inferno that used to be their house._

Emma finished up her story, and looked down at her feet, blinking away the tears that had reappeared. Spot remained silent, and just stared at the girl in front of him. He would've never picked her out as a killer. A part of him sympathized with her. She was just like him and his newsies: a kid forced to grow up before her time.

She wasn't alone. It wasn't uncommon for newsies to have blood on their hands, and Spot remembered the horrible feeling he had after the first time he had ever killed someone.

Finally, Emma mustered up the courage to speak. "I understand if you don't want me to stay here anymore-"

Spot couldn't help but laugh. She really thought she would be kicked out for that? "Emma, you can stay here. It's fine."

With that, Spot left Emma on the roof as he went back inside, and Emma couldn't help but feel they had reached a point of tolerance.

**Sorry that one took a little longer to get posted, but on the bright side, it's longer than all of the other chapters! Hahaha, anyways I will try my best to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Hell week (aka tech week) for the musical is all next week, and then the show opens up that Friday, but after that, I'll actually have the weekdays to write. So hopefully I'll be able to get more chapters up around that time.**

**P.S.- I know the whole secret organization thing has been done loads of times, but don't worry. It is only meant to be part of the past. It won't pop up again. I have something else in mind for this story!**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is one of the edited ones. After it was published, I realized that part of it had been erased. So this one is longer than it had previously been. Yay!**

* * *

><p><em>For so many nights I'd pray for a better life, a better day<em>

_But I never thought that it'd come true_

_It's finally here and I don't know what to do_

_And I'm trying not to cry_

_This must be how it feels_

_To have a home_

_~Darren Criss , A Very Potter Sequel "To Have A Home"_

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><p>One morning, Emma found herself alone once more on the top of the roof where she had her conversation with Spot two weeks prior. She had come to realize that this was her favorite spot to come to in order to get away from everything and think. At that moment, she was the only one awake in the lodging house, and it was strange when she had grown accustomed to the noise to listen to the silence and the occasional loud snore that carried all of the way up to the roof.<p>

Her gaze was focused on the lone tree that sprouted out among the weeds and dirt in the lot beside the lodging house. It was a strange phenomenon that something that gorgeous could grow in such a barren, foreign land. It stood proud and tall, its top branches almost reaching the roof she was sitting on, and somehow she felt reassured despite her conflicting thoughts.

She was ruminating on two thoughts, the first being her brother. It had been at least a month since he had dropped her off, and she had yet to hear back from him, making her anxious. Had he just abandoned her? Was he worried about his safety around her?

No, surely he wouldn't have stayed around her that long if that was the case; he could've just left her to burn in that house. But no. He stuck by her side and comforted her when she was feeling doubtful. Reader reminded her a lot of her brother.

So where was he now? Surely he would be back soon. That was it. He probably just ran into some delay on the way back to Brooklyn, which made him take that long. He would be back soon, and really, what was she worried about? Staying with the newsies wasn't that bad. She had become very close with Reader; close enough to consider him to be a friend and confidante that she could talk to about anything. He was patient and kind to her, and he always found a way to keep her grounded. Even a few of the newsies acknowledged her presence, but still kept their distance. She still wasn't someone they could trust.

She had also got to know a few of the younger boys who were still so innocent, though they wouldn't dare admit it. Each morning, they'd play some sort of game before they went out to sell papers, and one particular boy had grown attached to her: Mud. Mud was seven (near eight, he would claim) and was a spunky kid that always seemed to be smiling. He took it upon himself to protect Emma from the other kid newsies, even though they weren't exactly a threat to her seeing as they were at the most half her height.

And then there was Spot. Spot was another person who seemed to frequently enter into her thoughts. Her relationship with him was confusing and irritating, but at the same time, intriguing. Ever since Emma's conversation with him, they seemed to have come to an understanding, and he seemed to look at her like another person and not someone who was invading his turf.

However, despite their understanding, Emma was currently infuriated with Spot. In fact, they weren't even on speaking terms at the moment. In Emma's opinion, he was being too protective of her just because she was a girl. He had recently restricted her to Brooklyn and Manhattan due to the fact she was, in Spot's opinion, being too reckless in the other boroughs. Sure she had found herself in a couple of scrapes and close calls, and more than once had put her life in danger, but she could hold her own. She didn't need anyone looking out for her. He apparently thought otherwise, and it irked Emma to no end.

So why exactly was she sitting there thinking about him if that was the case? If she was furious at him, why was he the major component of her thoughts? Emma mentally scolded herself. What was Spot to her but some haughty, egotistical, self-absorbed kid that ruled over his newsies kingdom with an iron fist?

Angrily, she threw a rock at the wall opposite to her current sitting position and decided to head back inside where she could hear a few of the boys stirring. She snuck back down the fire escape and down to her separate room- that was actually more like a broom closest- that Spot had insisted she stay in. Turning and glancing back once more at the blazing ball of fire just peaking over the horizon, she went through her open window and into the room.

Emma quickly dressed in her usual ill-fitting shirt, pants that seemed to swallow the entire lower half of her body, and her tan newsboys cap that concealed her dark mane. By now, she was a pro at hiding the fact she was a girl. The fact that she lacked the curves girls her age seemed to have definitely helped, but she had the boyish mannerisms down to a t.

Deciding that it was time to head out, Emma opened the old, worn down door only to come face to face with a grinning Reader, who stood about a foot taller than she was.

"Good morning, sunshine!" he announced a bit to cheerfully for Emma's taste. Something was definitely going on.

"You're certainly wide awake and happy this morning," she replied, eyeing Reader suspiciously. "What's the occas-"

Her train of thought was instantly forgotten as she looked at the scene playing out behind Reader's back. A girl about her age was exiting out of Spot's room, followed by the leader of Brooklyn himself, who grabbed the girl by her arm and whispered something in her ear, causing her to blush.

Something about the girl's body language made Emma's heart drop a little, despite the fact she didn't really understand what was going on. Why was she in his room? Spot never let anyone in his room. Reader, picking up on the fact that she wasn't listening to his excuses anymore, turned to see what had caught her attention.

There he saw Spot's newest girl hanging onto him like some monkey, looking at him like he was the king of the world or something, and then there was Spot, looking rather annoyed by her presence. Reader then focused his gaze back on Emma, who stood in front of him with her delicate features scrunched up in a confused expression, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

As if he read her mind, Reader explained, "That's Spot's latest girl. Can't imagine she'll last too long by the looks of it. He goes through girls like fishermen go through beer."

Emma looked back at him, still appearing perplexed. "What does that mean?" Her thoughts were already tangled in disorder, and what Reader had just said didn't exactly help to unknot them.

How could he put this politely so as not to upset her? After all, it was his understanding that women didn't really talk about such things. "Well, uh, Spot get what he wants out of girls, and then throws them out."

The thoughtful expression on Emma's face made him realize she hadn't the slightest idea of what he was talking about, and suddenly Reader became slightly uncomfortable. Of course it made sense she hadn't experience or learned about that part of life- that didn't seem to be the sort of thing she was around while she grew up.

Still, Reader didn't want to be the one to explain it to her, but deep down he knew he had to. Anyone else would more than likely take advantage of her, and he'd be damned if anyone upset her. That thought alone made him feel uneasy. She was like a younger sister to him, despite the fact they were the same age, and that seemed to be the sort of thing brothers and sisters didn't really talk about.

Reader nervously scratched the back of his head, debating on whether or not he should explain it to her or not. "Uh… I'll explain it to you later… I've got papers to sell."

Emma shrugged, and just like that, the subject was dropped. Reader figured she wasn't the type of person to dwell on things too long. "Alright, I guess I should head out too. Heaven forbid Spot doesn't know what's going down in Manhattan." _Nothing there happens anyways _she thought about adding, but decided against it.

He nodded, and with that, Emma took off down the stairs, not bothering to even glance over at Spot.

"Oh, and Emma," Reader called out after her. "Let's meet down by the docks, it looks like it's going to be a nice day." A grin graced his face. Emma had no idea what was in store for the evening.

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><p>Emma finished her walk over the Brooklyn Bridge after completing a morning and afternoon in Manhattan, keeping an eye on everything going on. Surprisingly enough, things had been strangely quiet, which is saying something for Manhattan. She had barely seen the older newsies out and about their usual selling spots, raising some questions in her mind. Would Spot find this as weird as she did if she reported it?<p>

Maybe quiet was good, right? Maybe they had just taken a day off from selling. That was probably it. After all, she did hear that yesterday had a good headline, so maybe they had enough money to take the day off.

Emma took a bite out of the apple she had procured along her stroll through Central Park. It had been easy to steal. The vendor hadn't even noticed her, let alone that one of the many apples was missing. She smiled gleefully to herself. Boy, the look on Spot's face would be priceless if he ever found out, which she was sure it wouldn't happen. None of his little birdies were around. She had made sure of that before hand.

She tossed the apple before turning the corner that lead to the Navy Yard. As she reached the suspiciously empty docks, her body sensed what was about to happen before her brain registered it, and she was picked up by multiple sets of hands and tossed into the frigid cold water of the East River.

She remained still for a few moments, and let the cool summer water overtake her. She should've expected this was something. Her father always said to never get to comfortable with places and people; when you let your guard down, they attack. Reader never changed the spot on her, so to do so now made sense, but why?

She broke the surface and wiped her eyes clear from the water in order to see. Before her stood Reader along with the rest of the Brooklyn newsies, a few of the older Manhattan newsies, and Spot, who stood off to the side off to the side with his signature smirk playing on his face.

"What-t-t… was that f-f-f-for?" she managed to sputter out through shivering teeth. A Manhattan newsie offered out a hand to help her up, but she paid no mind to it and hoisted herself up on the dock, coughing up water as she did so.

"We never truly welcomed you into Brooklyn," came Spot's answer as he stepped forwards toward the soaking wet girl glaring up at him.

Emma pulled her chestnut hair to one side and rung it out, but never broke her eye contact with Spot, refusing to be the one who looked away first. "So you tossed me in the river as a welcoming?" she asked in disbelief.

"Think of it as a sort of initiation," came another response belonging to the Manhattan newsie with a red bandana tied around his neck. He gave Emma a dazzling smile, and somehow Emma's annoyance seemed to dissipate. "It's not exactly the way I would welcome youse, but Spotty here isn't exactly the greatest-"

"Hey, Jackie-boy, Ise would watch it if I were you," came Spot's warning as he turned his attention back to Emma. "But yeah, welcome to Brooklyn, Sparrow. Now who's ready to lose in poker?"

A boy with a cigar hanging out of his mouth began shuffling cards as he made his way down to Spot. "Well, it sounds like you are, Spot," he replied. "but it's alright, you're playing against the best."

With that, the newsies scattered into their different groups, playing cards, joking around, and jumping off the docks. Reader, who had come to her side when she wasn't paying attention, clapped her on the back.

"Well," he said, "Looks like you're officially one of us, Sparrow."

She rolled her eyes at her newly acquired nickname and smiled. "Yeah, I'm glad I got tossed in the river for that lovely welcome…" she replied sarcastically before she noticed the newsie with the cigar waving her over.

"Looks like Race wants you to join them," Reader explained as he followed her gaze, noticing it stop on Spot for a moment.

"I don't exactly want to be around Spot toni-"

"Hey now," Reader scolded as he took hold of her shoulders to get her to look at him, "don't let Spot keep you from having fun. As much as I like and respect him, he can be a bit hard to take sometimes. You'll get use to it eventually. Now, go on and join them."

And with that, he gave her a gentle push forward and sent her over to the table. She gave Race a quick, shy smile as she took the only seat available in between Spot, who had a pretty blonde sitting on his lap, and a Manhattan newsie wearing a pink shirt and a glum expression, but managed to nod a hello as she sat down.

"Hey guys, looks like a wet dog decided to join us," Spot quipped, gaining a few chuckles from those around the table.

Emma shot him a glare and suppressed the urge to kick him under the table but retorted in the same fashion as Spot, "Hey guys, do you hear something? It sort of sounds like a half-pint egotistical fly, only more annoying." She wasn't going down without a fight, and pride swelled within her as the guys around the table burst out in 'oh's and laughter.

The fact that Spot shot them all glares was rewarding as well, and the guys all tried to stifle their laughter. Even the guy beside her who seemed to be sulking when she first arrived tried his best not to laugh, though a genuine smile was on his face.

"Spot, I'm already liking this new addition," Race commented as he passed out the cards, purposefully hitting the girl on Spot's lap with a couple of cards, which he claimed to be an accident. His body language, on the other hand, told Emma it wasn't. Race had now earned a spot on Emma's good list.

A cold breeze hit Emma, and reminded her that she was still soaking wet as shivers racked her entire body. She wrapped her arms around the front of her waist in an attempt to get warm, but failed as shivers consumed her entire body.

"Do you want my coat?" asked the newsie beside her, who was still smiling. He obviously noticed that she was shivering as well. She nodded slowly, and as he wrapped the coat around her shoulders, she felt light and happy. She was finally being accepted; the one thing she had wanted ever since she had been handed over to the care of the Brooklyn newsies.

Hey Skittery, stop ya flirting and let's get on with the game," Race commented as he looked at the cards in his hand. "Do you know how ta play, Sparrow?"

Spot eyed Emma as everyone around the table waited for her response.

A faint blush appeared on her tan cheeks as she meekly shook her head. "No, I never learned how to."

Spot noticed a jacket wrapped around her small frame and then glanced over at Skittery, who had managed to scoot closer to her. Anger rose within Spot, but quickly died down as the blonde- he couldn't really recall her name- snuggled closer to him and snuck in a kiss to the nape of his neck. He saw Emma glance his way and screw up her face in confusion before looking back down at her cards.

"Dat's okay," Racetrack replied. "Skittery there can help youse out."

She looked over at her new partner and nodded as Spot heard her whisper to Skittery, "Sorry about this."

Skittery moved even closer to her so that this time they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, and he took a look at her cards while explaining to her the rules of the game. His right leg was bouncing up and down as a nervous tick, but there was an uncharacteristically small smile on his face that irritated Spot to no end, though he couldn't exactly pin point why that was.

Emma tossed in a coin as the buy-in price and listened intently as her partner instructed her on what to do. Occasionally, she would laugh at something he said or call people out on their bluffs- something she could do as easily as breathing. Spot hand to hand it to her, she was doing well for it being her first time, but she was continually loosing money. However, it didn't seem to bug her that much, and for the first time since she arrived, she felt right at home.

**Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Life has been absolutely crazy, and I've had writer's block for the longest time. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed it! It had been a bit longer, but I decided to break it into two chapters, and hopefully that second chapter should be out soon. Please, please, please, with a cherry on top, review! I love getting reviews since they inspire me to write more. I'm kind of a needy writer I guess. On a last note, please excuse the grammatical errors in this, it's super late and I'm too tired to go back and look over it. I'll go back and fix it later.**


	5. Chapter 5

_The food that I'm eating _

_Is suddenly tasteless_

_I know I'm alone now_

_I know what it tastes like_

_~Regina Spektor_

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><p>"Well guys," Emma announced, "it's been swell, but you've bled me dry. I'm going to see if there's something else going on that doesn't involve me loosing money." Emma slapped her hat that had fallen off during a fit of laughter back on her head, but left her sleek, dark brown hair cascading down over her shoulders, no longer afraid to hide her identity.<p>

Skittery followed her lead as she stood up to lead. "Yeah, I think I'm done for the night too," he added.

Racetrack shot him a knowing glance and nodded, "Shoah, Shoah."

Emma turned to Skittery, who offered out an arm. She stared at it for a few seconds and then took it like all of the girls did in the stories she read with Reader, smiling up at him like he was something special.

They walked off towards the docks, pausing only for a moment as Skittery offered Emma a cigarette. Once more, she stared at it for a moment, trying to decide what to do and shrugged as she put the cigarette in her mouth. He took out a box of matches and lit the cigarette for her. As soon as smoke started rising out of the cigarette, Emma coughed a few times, but gave Skittery a small smile as she took his arm back and allowed him to lead her down to the edge of the docks.

The very sight of the pair made Spot's insides churn uneasily. "Hey doll, I'll be right back," he whispered to the blonde, who gave him a pout and grudgingly got up. Without explaining his sudden change of interest to the others, Spot stormed off to where the two of them were now sitting with their feet hanging in the water and not a care in the world- at least until they noticed Spot standing behind them, with piercing blue eyes that displayed authority.

"Emma, can I talk wit' youse for a moment?" He stood proud and tall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Emma remained frozen as she looked between Spot and Skittery, trying to decide on her course of action until she bluntly replied, "No, I'm sort of busy at the moment."

Both he and Skittery stared at the girl, completely dumbfounded. No one in their right mind flat out told Spot no, and especially not a girl. Girls in New York usually fell under Spot's "spell", but it seemed as though this girl was the exception to that. Skittery seemed to shrink back, fearing the repercussions of Spot's infamous anger.

"Let me rephrase that," came his cool response as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to her feet. "You're coming wit' me, and we'se are gonna have a little talk." He pulled her by the arm away from Skittery and made sure they weren't within earshot of anyone.

"What the hell was that for?" Emma yelled as she yanked her arm out of his grasp and stood with her arms folded in front of her chest. She could already feel the bruise forming from where he had grabbed her.

Instead of answering her question, he asked one himself, "What do you think you're doing?" _If looks could kill_ Spot mused as Emma glared at him and subconsciously clenched her fists as her arms fell down to her sides. The white of her knuckles were beginning to show.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waiting to hear your excuse as to why you dragged me away!"

"Hey," he warned, "watch your mouth, sweetheart. You're lucky youse a goil and that your brother asked me to look after you. Otherwise I wouldn't hesitate to soak you from Trenton and back." The two had become dangerously close to one another, but neither backed away, not wanting to be the one to break first.

Emma rolled her eyes as she mumbled, "Yeah, I'm real lucky…"

Spot chose to ignore her comment once more and continued interrogating her. "What are you doing with Skittery?"

"What, I'm not allowed to be friends with anyone but you and Reader? It's nothing. He offered me a smoke and then wanted to know if I cared to join him on the dock. He's being friendly, unlike someone… And besides, why does it matter? You have your poker game and that girl," her eyes narrowed in accusation as she took a drag out of her cigarette, only to have Spot grab it out of her hand, throw it on the ground, and stamp it out.

"Hey, what gives?" she managed to ask after she had recovered from her coughing fit that had been a result of inhaling the smoke. Her eyes looked longingly after the burned out tobacco.

"You shouldn't smoke, it's unattractive for a girl to smoke," he explained.

Emma had heard enough. Nobody would tell her what to do. She was the one in control of her life, not some leader from Brooklyn. "You can't tell me what to do and expect me to follow it, right? When exactly have I ever-"

The girl standing just centimeters away had an effect on him that he didn't quite understand, and at the moment, it only served to irritate him. "Sweetheart, lemme give you some advice. If you want to survive here, you better do as I say," he advised in a dangerously low voice. They were both hardheaded, and Spot could tell he was nowhere near closer to winning this argument. He needed to try a different approach. One that he had yet to use on her.

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm-" she paused for a moment, noticing Spot had closed the remaining space between them and was now fiddling with a lock of her hair. "…Leaving soon. I'll be out of your hair."

What was he doing? One moment he was fuming mad about something silly, and now he seemed anything but angry. All traces of frustration had vanished from his face and been replaced by his trademark smirk.

She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she suddenly became aware of their chests breathing in and out in tandem, like the cogs of a clock. Silently, she thanked her lucky stars it was dark outside for she was sure that she was blushing wildly. Emma wanted to back away; she wanted to end the unfamiliar feelings that rose in her chest with the nearness of Spot, but she couldn't back down now. Her pride made it impossible.

Spot's smirk grew more prominent as he noticed her tense up and uncertainty and confusion flooded her eyes, but for a moment, a twinge of guilt surfaced for a moment as he watched the strong, confident girl in front of him tremble and gradually shrink. It was an interesting sight to see- definitely not the reaction he expected-, but he stifled the uncharacteristic emotion as easily as he had quelled his anger and continued on his mission to get her to either cave in or back down. With that in mind, he passed a calloused thumb over her inviting lips, and brushed it against her cheek.

In a matter of seconds, the upper hand he seemed to have vanished as a strong open palm collided with his left cheek, sending a _smack_ reverberating against the surrounding brick and stone buildings. Emma stormed off towards the dock where Skittery sat as she wrapped his coat against her body, rendering Spot completely speechless.

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><p>Emma sat on top of the wooden kitchen counter as she waited for Reader to get back from selling the afternoon edition. Her mind wandered back to the previous night and the many conflicting thoughts and revelations that it brought forth. She had been so angry at Spot as she was now; just the sight of him the next morning made her blood boil, but what was curious were the feelings that arose when he was messing around with her.<p>

That's exactly what he was doing. He was just messing with her mind, trying to confuse her. It seemed like something he would do. That mighty king of Brooklyn, who loved to impose his power on other people.

His body language had been the same with that girl from the previous morning, as well as the pretty, fair-skinned blonde last night, and while she still wasn't quite sure what it meant, she now had a pretty good idea. _And I didn't even have to ask Reader_ she thought proudly as she kicked her dangling legs back and forth. Spot was confusing, she concluded and resolved not to think about him anymore.

Skittery, on the other hand, was just as confusing, if not more so. They had been one of the last people to leave, seeing as they had talked into the night, completely ignoring those around them. He was a bit fidgety, but it seemed like that was how he always was, and Emma found it somewhat entertaining. She was pretty sure she had never seen anyone so jittery before, so seeing someone as tough as a newsies act like that… was strange. Nevertheless, they had a pleasant conversation talking about anything that came to their minds.

He was, as Emma soon discovered, an orphan from New Jersey who left for Manhattan at the young age of eight where he happened across the Manhattan's lodging house tenant, Mr. Kloppman. Mr. Kloppman had found Skittery on the sleeping on the streets in the middle of winter, inches away from death, and took him in. Ever since then, he's been there with the newsies, barely making enough to get by.

Like Skittery, Emma told part of her story, conveniently leaving out the part about being trained to become an assassin basically, or the very fact that she had killed a man, as well as her father. To him, she was just some runaway with a bad home life that went to New York with her brother and was staying with the Brooklyn newsies until her brother returned from a trip.

It wasn't until they said goodbye when things became confusing for Emma. Skittery had walked her back to the lodging house in silence, making it obvious- at least for her- that he was ruminating on something. They stood outside the front door for a moment, and she offered up a small smile. That was when he appeared to Emma to be reaching to help her take off his jacket until he didn't take the coat but instead brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and brought her closer to him to move in for the kiss.

A kiss. Just like she read about in the fairytales Reader had her reading. Their lips met, and just like that, it was over. No sparks that had been described in the fairytales were emitted. No strong connection. Skittery left seconds after that, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and his coat draped over his right shoulder. It was as if nothing had happened between them. It was nothing like the stories proclaimed, leaving Emma to think the stories weren't all that they were cracked up to be, and to be honest, she was perfectly fine with that.

* * *

><p>"Heya, Reader. Don't forget about the meeting tonight wit' the Bronx," Spot reminded Reader as Reader grabbed a letter addressed to Emma that had been lying on the ground in front of the door to the lodging house.<p>

"Don't worry, I won't," he assured as Spot went to join a few of his boys playing poker. Reader went into the kitchen to find Emma deep in thought. "Look at you being all pensive and whatnot."

Emma's head snapped up, and there was a wide smile plastered on her face. She quickly jumped off the counter and ran to hug him with a strength Reader hadn't realized she possessed up until that point.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as Emma released him from her bear hug.

"'s okay." She took her seat at the counter where they usually studied and looked at Reader with anticipation, anxious to begin her lesson.

Reader joined her at the counter and handed her the letter. "This was at the door for you."

She looked up at him, eyes wide in confusion. "I can't read," she said plainly. She had expected Reader to pick up on that by now, but he apparently didn't.

"Well, how about instead of reading fairytales we try and read that?" he offered. "I'm sure you can recognize a few of the words by now. Go on, read it."

Emma gave him a look of uncertainty before turning her attention to the letter and opened it. She studied the letter with extreme concentration. Her face was scrunched up as she tried to decipher the words until another emotion took the place of it. The letter barely hit the table before Emma had stood up with a scream of despair and sent many of the cleaned plates crashing to the ground.

It was as if her world had come crashing down, and for a second of clarity, she felt as if she were one of the plates being broken into a million pieces. Anything and everything she came in contact with was sent flying across the room as her sobs echoed through the entire lodging house.

Newsies from all over the house budged through the kitchen door to see what was happening to the young woman they had finally welcomed last night. Reader tried to restrain her and calm her down, but he was quickly pushed away by Emma, who seemed to now be possessed by some sort of higher power.

Annoyed that he didn't have any idea of what was going on, Spot shoved his way through the crowd of boys blocking the kitchen to find Emma resisting Reader, who was still trying to get her to stop her tirade. As soon as Spot saw the letter addressed to her on the ground, he grabbed it, his eyes analyzing every word on that parchment before he stormed up behind Emma and wrapped his arms around her torso, capturing her failing arms as well.

"Lemme go, lemme go!" Emma screamed as she turned around, fists pounding against his strong chest, not seeming to have any affect on him.

Spot struggled to capture her wrists to stop her, but thankfully she finally collapsed against him, sobbing into his dirty shirt, and in that moment, all previous feuds were forgotten. Her legs collapsed from underneath her, leaving the only thing holding her up was Spot. He picked her up gingerly and cradled her in his arms as he moved out of the kitchen and up to her room, where he laid her down on the bed.

She still clung on to him as if he were the only thing keeping her on the ground, and Spot took this as an invitation to sit down on her bed beside her. He gathered her up in his arms and rubbed soothing circles on her back as she whispered over and over, "He's gone…"

Her closest, living family member was now gone from her life, and strangely enough, Spot felt a small feeling of sympathy. Sure, he and his newsies had been through tough times, if not more so than this small girl currently curled up in his arms as if she belonged there, but no girl should have to go through what she had. She was tough, Spot had to admit, but it still didn't make it any easier on her.

The one thing she seemed to have that neither he nor his boys had, however, was the ability to feel other emotions than just a stagnant, cool composure. Emma hadn't yet closed of the emotions; she still felt anger, and happiness, and sadness. She wasn't afraid to show them, either. He would never say it due to his pride, but it was something he admired about her. She seemed to allow people to get close to her instead of keeping them away; it was completely opposite in his case. Subconsciously, he ran his fingers through her tangled, dark brown hair repeatedly

Eventually, the tears subsided and Emma carefully removed herself from Spot's arms, muttering a "sorry" as she grabbed her night sack and began to pack up her stuff.

Spot felt suddenly cold as her absence washed over him, and he watched her pack with a strange curiosity.

Emma could feel his eyes boring into her back as she gathered what few belongings she had, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks. Everyone had seen her breakdown. She hadn't broken down in front of everyone ever since the night her brother took her away. The thought of her brother brought up a fresh batch of tears.

"What are you doing?" came Spot's quiet question, which she almost didn't hear over her pounding heart that rang in her ears.

She spun around to see Spot, now standing just inches away. "Well, I, uh- I figured since the deal was to let me stay until-" she couldn't manage to say Tommy's name- "until he came back, and seeing as he's not- not-t-t coming b-b-back, I figured I sh-sh-should leave." Emma then broke down once more, and instantly Spot was at her side, taking her nap sack out of her hands and guiding her back to the bed.

Emma laid down in her bed and curled up under the covers as Spot reassuringly squeezed the hand that had been left out of the covers.

"Emma, youse can stay. You are one of us now."

**Hey y'all! Sorry it took me longer than I had expected to get this one out. I've been moving into college and adjusting and whatnot, and that sort of took up my time. Anyways, I just want to say thanks to all of you who added this onto your story alerts! I feel honored. Also, a special thanks to Mayarin for reviewing every single chapter so far! You are my favorite reviewer for that! Anyways, to the rest of you, please, please, please review! They inspire me to write, and the more I'm inspired, the faster the chapters appear. It's like magic!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey all! Sorry it took so long to get this one out. College is a lot crazier than I expected, but guess what! I get to see Newsies in New Jersey! I'm super pumped! Is anyone else going? Anyways, I just wanted to say thanks to those of you who put this on your favorite stories and story alerts. It seriously means a lot to me! And thank you to Mayarin and Ealasaid Una for reviewing! I seriously love all of your reviews I've received. Y'all are super awesome, no lie! Also, I have been reading this story over, and there are a few things I'm correcting/adding/changing, so keep an eye out for that. And now, on with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nada. Just the OCs and anything else you don't recognize.**

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><p><em>Begin to hope<em>

_And all the colors start to change beneath the light_

_You might forget that the world's so sad_

_You might forget that things are awful bad_

_And it's alright_

_~Regina Spektor "Begin to Hope"_

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><p>The perplexities of the girl lying calmly beside him always left Spot guessing. One moment they were at each other's throats, and the next- well, the evening before pretty much explained that other, completely different side. She was peculiar, that was for sure, and while she brought along her extra baggage, the ragged spirit and fire she brought with her fit perfectly well with his newsies.<p>

Spot stared up at the ceiling that was currently painted with the pinks and yellows of the rising sun. _"On my way over to America from Ireland, I lost my ma' and pa'_," he had told her that night before in a lapse of judgment, and now he was cursing himself for it. It hadn't made her feel any better; it just let her know he sympathized with her. He allowed a small smile to grace his face. She had hugged him after hearing that.

He shared a side of him with her he had never really shown anyone before, and at the moment he couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing, but for now, he'd just take it as it was and allow the warmth that radiated from her arm over his torso envelope him. He remained there a few more minutes before deciding it was best to get up before the rest of his boys did. For Emma's sake, he didn't want them jumping to conclusions if they saw him coming out of her room.

Slowly and carefully, he moved her limp arm off of him and onto the pillow where his head had rested moments ago and smoothly got up to his feet to begin the new day. Worried about Emma's sanity, he had told her to take the day off and follow him along. That look she had given him told him she really didn't like the idea of being put on a leash, but she didn't protest.

As long as Emma had known Spot- granted, it hadn't been a long time compared to the rest of the newsies- she had never exactly thought of him being capable of comforting someone. Even the other newsies, specifically Reader, found his actions yesterday surprising, but yet suspicious. Knowing Spot, they figured he had an ulterior motive. When it game to girls, he always did. Those who had been around Spot long enough knew that he didn't possess a single kind bone in his body. The only things he cared about were his power, his image, and occasionally his newsies.

So when Spot told him Emma wasn't going to be at her lesson, Reader become suddenly protective of her.

"Why not?" Reader asked as casually as possible, careful not to set off Spot's temper. They were standing in the crowded bathroom, Reader fighting for space, and Spot having no trouble at all.

"She's selling with me today," came his reply as he wiped the water from his face with a raggedy towel. Rowdy boys pushed and shoved all around, and Spot's answer could barely be heard over the shouting. Grabbing his usual hat, cane, and slingshot, Spot left the bathroom without another word as Reader struggled along after him, pulling his suspenders on over his shoulders.

"You do realize that she still can't read that well, right?" Reader pointed out, proving only to irritate Spot. He watched him cautiously out of the corner of his eye.

Spot quickly rounded on him, and within a matter of seconds, he was staring Reader down with a smirk on his face, amused that Reader of all people would be giving him grief. "'Coise I do, she's just bumming along with me. Dat a problem?" he challenged.

Immediately, Reader backed down and shook his head. While Emma might be able to get away with back sassing Spot, none of the newsies dared to cross Spot unless that newsie had a death wish.

That's what made Sparrow so special in Reader's opinion. Girls fell like putty in Spot's hands, but she stood as strong as the statue of liberty in the harbor. It was as though she viewed herself as an equal to Spot, which could end badly seeing as Spot liked to have control over people.

"Good," Spot said as he put on his cap. "Now, we'se got papes to sell."

Downstairs, they found Emma messing around with the younger boys of the group like she did every morning, except this time, to the careful observer, the light had disappeared from her eyes. A small smile stayed on her face as she looked around the room for the hiding boys; despite the fact that she knew where each one was, she pretended to have a hard time finding them.

"Alright, alright, knock it off. We'se got papes to sell. Why aren't you all at the distribution centah yet?" Spot called out authoritatively, sending the small boys bustling out of the front door and down to the distribution center.

Reader sauntered over to a downtrodden looking Emma and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Emma."

Spot watched the pair in contempt. Why was it that Reader always hung around Emma, and why did Emma not push him away? Sure, last night she hadn't pushed him away and allowed him to see her at her weakest, but before then- and even today- there was a sort of tension between them. She always seemed to get along with Reader, and they were always by each other every free second they got.

Frustrated, Spot pushed the thoughts out of his mind and walked out the door, soon followed by Reader and Emma, who remained silent the entire walk down to the distribution center.

Emma was dressed in her usual boy clothes, but left off the hat, showing off her radiant hair that had been lazily pulled into a loose bun, leaving a few strands dangling in her face. With each passing glance from a few proper ladies and gentlemen, she was instantly placed as a ruffian lacking manners, as someone who didn't know her right place in society. Each time this happened, however, she ignored it and walked tall and proud, shaking off those insecurities that added to the pain of her already breaking heart, though she didn't quite understand it. She wasn't doing anything wrong, so why were they looking down on her?

When they reached the distribution center, Spot took her by the arm, away from Reader and up to the front of the line where everyone waited patiently for him. Being king, he was always the first to purchase papers.

"Mornin' Mistah Molony, the usual hundred papes," he ordered as he smirked at the wiry old man.

"Good mornin', Spot," replied the old Irishman as he handed over the newspapers. "And who is this young lass?"

Emma moved forward to speak up, but was quickly silenced as Spot answered for her, "Dis here's Sparrow. Joined us a couple of weeks ago."

Spot clapped her on the back, proudly. She mustered up a small smile to one of the few seemingly kind men she had met in Brooklyn.

"Nice to meet ya, Sparrow. How many papes would you like?"

"Oh, I'm not-" she began before she was interrupted once again.

"She just has the pleasure of obsoiving me today." Usually, the fact that he was answering for her and that he had just a huge ego would grate on her nerves, but she was too worn out to fight Spot. It wasn't worth it. "See ya around," Spot added as he tipped his hat, flung his papers of his right shoulder, and followed Emma out to the crowded streets.

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><p>As the day progressed, Emma's mood improved as she pushed her feelings to the very corner of mind- something she had learned to do at a very early age. Emma looked on from her current position on the bench at Spot, bored out of her mind. Much to her annoyance, she noticed most of his customers were women who looked at him with adoring eyes, despite the fact that they were in a higher class the he was- something, Emma noted, that seemed to be of high importance to the "richer" crowd. <em>No wonder Spot has such confidence around women<em> she thought bitterly. _They all worship the ground he walks on just because he-_

She couldn't finish the thought. _Yes, he was cute, if you liked that sort of arrogant, bipolar, masculine, muscular leader with-_

She was doing it again, and as if he could read her thoughts, she found him meeting her gaze. She quickly masked her emotions.

"You feelin' alright, Emma?" For a second, he was looking at her as though he was worried, but that worry soon turned into a condescending glance before he focused on something behind her. "Don't want you freaking out in public like you did at the lodging house, you know." It was an excuse, but it seemed to convince her.

For a moment, the pain she had been stifling surfaced, tears glistening in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them both back once more and instead forced a strong smile. Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out her hat, which she placed on her head, effectively hiding her identity like she did her emotions. "Couldn't be better," she lied. "Don't need to worry about me. I've been taking care of myself for a long time now."

Bitterness flooded her voice, and she cast her gaze down at her worn-out boots. Leave it to Spot to act like he cares one moment about something other than himself, only to go back to that egotistical leader that bugged her to no end.

The shimmering gold of Spot's cane caught her eyes, sending her mood to a stable place again. _Wonder how long it'd take him to notice that was missing_ she pondered as a sly smile graced her face.

Emma stood up and walked over to the street corner where Spot was calling out his headlines, attracting multiple buyers. He glanced over at her and gave her a quick, but genuine smile as though he was happy to see the old spark back in her dark eyes.

"Mind if I look at the pape real quickly?" she asked, dropping her voice down an octave to go along with her appearance. Her eyes flicked with the excitement of a new task.

"Thought you couldn't read," Spot muttered as he offered a pretty girl a dazzling smile and a paper. Emma shrugged. "Alright. Just make shoah I get it back, you hear?"

Emma mock saluted him, and as he pulled a paper from his dwindling stack of newspapers, she quickly and easily slipped the cane from out of the belt loop and stuck it up one of the legs of her loose fitting trousers, the tip of it wedged into the back of her boot. Once he turned back around to give her the paper, she gave him a big smile, took the paper, and retreated back to her bench.

_Well that was easier than I expected_ she thought merrily as she opened the paper to cover up the cane that was now on her lap. Emma watched Spot carefully from the top of her newspaper, trying to hold back the laughter that was bubbling up inside of her until after a few more newspapers were sold. That was when he realized something was a bit off.

As soon as his hand reached the place where his cane had been, she bolted out of sight, a genuine smile on her face. Behind her, she could hear Spot cursing her name before he took off after her in high pursuit of one of his most prized possessions.

Having memorized all of the different routes since she arrived in Brooklyn, Emma easily twisted around the side streets and back roads, leading him in a hectic maze around the borough. Her legs burned with the pain of not running so quickly in weeks, but she welcomed that feeling as if it were an old friend and pushed herself to move faster.

While Spot was the toughest newsie in all of New York and could probably beat her in a fight, Emma was the fastest, and therefore left him following the trail of dust while she was a street or two ahead.

She weaved her way through the crowd of people successfully up until she turned onto one of the main streets. Her fast movements came to a sudden halt as she collide with someone walking the opposite direction. They both fell to the ground with an "umph", both a little dazed as a result of the wind being knocked out of them.

As soon as the daze cleared, Emma discovered she had knocked down a well-dressed man, who was about a year or two her senior when suddenly she felt herself being roughly puller up by a stout police officer.

"Do you have any idea who you've just accosted, miss?" came the police officer's accusatory question. By now, Spot had reached the scene of disorder and hung back in the shadows. He waited to see what Emma would do now that she was finally caught. He was easily able to help her out, but he was intrigued to see what she would do.

"I-I-I didn't-" was all she could sputter out, as she- like Spot- was amazed that she was caught, even if it was something completely unintentional this time.

"If it were up to me, I'd have all of you street rats locked up in the refuge-"

"Officer, it's completely alright," began the young man as he stood up and brushed himself off. "She obviously didn't mean any harm."

Emma stared at the young man in front of her in bewilderment. He dressed similarly to the stuck up man she had encountered on one of her first days with the Brooklyn newsies, but he didn't possess the same sort of air about him. His curly brown hair framed his face perfectly, accentuating the sharp, angular features.

"But sir, this ruffian-"

"It's quite alright. He obviously didn't mean any harm," the gentleman continued. Emma's eyes grew wide as saucers. This man was actually helping her out? "You can let him go. I won't press any charges."

Begrudgingly, the officer released her from his harsh grip, sending her falling back to the ground. Then the police officer continued on his way, patrolling the streets for any more problems.

"Sorry about all of that, Miss," the man said as he offered out a hand to help Emma up. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers, and as if he read her mind, he answered, "I know a lady when I see one. You're not hurt at all, are you?" Both of his hands now rested on her shoulders as she peered up at him.

Eagerly, she shook her head and reached down to pick up Spot's fallen cane from the ground. "No, no. I'm alright," she replied, meekly, still trying to find her voice. "Are you?"

"I'm quite fine," the man said with a sweet smile. "I've had worse."

Emma brushed herself off, suddenly feeling self conscious of her present state. For once, she couldn't push away the feeling that she got when ladies looked at her in disdain. Here was this proper man in front of her, and she was dressed in boys' clothing with dirt smeared all over her face in front of the contrasting clean, well-groomed man.

However, none of this seemed to matter to him as he offered out a hand. "William Davis," he began, "and you are?"

She placed her hand in his and blushed furiously as he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. "Emma," she stammered, "just Emma."

He smiled down at her, and she quickly looked away to hide her red cheeks. "Well, just Emma-"

"Aye, Sparrow!" Emma was immediately brought back down to earth as she remembered the whole reason why she was running. She gave William an apologetic look before she spun around to face Spot. She smiled guiltily as he marched up to her and held out his hand. She handed it over, and triumphantly Spot put it back in his belt loop before turning his attention to the man that had been talking to Emma.

"Who's this supposed to be?" Spot asked Emma, looking William over skeptically. It was clear by his tone of voice that he didn't like him one bit.

She cleared her throat and moved to answer, but was beat to it by William. "William Davis, and I take it you are Spot Conlon." He offered out a hand, and shook hands with a bemused Spot, looking proud that this new person knew of him.

Emma looked between the two, amazed. How'd he know about Spot?

"C'mon, Sparrow, I want to show you something," Spot whispered to her as he turned to leave. Emma gave William an apologetic look and shrugged before turning to catch up with Spot, now several paces ahead.

"Wait," William called out after her. She turned around to see him offering out a card. "Here's my card. I do hope to see you again, Emma." He gave her one last smile, and walked the opposite direction towards Manhattan.

She stood still, stunned, as she looked down at the card. A small smile spread across her face as she pocketed the card and ran to catch up with Spot.

**Well, hope you all liked it! Don't forget to review! I love getting them, and it keeps me inspired. Also, if you have any suggestions, I'd be glad to hear them!**


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